


USS Elementia

by Marzi



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2041578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzi/pseuds/Marzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While investigating a spacial anomaly, Picard’s Enterprise discovers the USS Elementia, a Federation ship from an alternate time line. Though manned by familiar faces, the the Enterprise soon discovers that the crew of the Elementia are far different from the people they know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't give my beta much time to beta, so mistakes are mine. Art by eddardstark on tumblr. eddardstark.tumblr.com/post/93190365209/eddardstark-art-for-uss-elementia-by

  
  
“Number One?” Picard stepped onto the bridge, tugging down the top of his uniform, thinking about his cup of Earl Gray going cold in his ready room.  
  
“Long range sensors have picked up two ships near the anomaly, sir.”'  
  
The reports he had been reading and the cup of tea in which he had been indulging quickly dropped in priority.  
  
“Can you identify them, Mr. Data?”  
  
“I am trying, sir. One of the ships is not recognized by our sensors.”  
  
“And the other?”  
  
“It appears to be a Romulan warbird, sir.”  
  
Appears to be. They would need better sensor data before the Lieutenant Commander would allow himself a more definite response.  
  
“Romulan?”  
  
Picard kept his face from mirroring his first officer's surprise.  
  
“Data, how far is that anomaly from the Neutral Zone?”  
  
“It is approximately three hundred and fifty-two point four light years from the Neutral Zone, and well within Federation space.”  
  
How many decimals had he shaved off in order to justify saying 'approximately'?  
  
“Well, it would seem they're out here studying the same anomaly we are.” Picard grimaced, not believing that was all they were doing for a second. “I for one would like to know how they got here so quickly. Helmsman, increase speed to warp seven. Engage.”  
  
Picard remained standing, and Will looked toward him, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“You have the bridge Number One.”  
  
“Aye, sir.”  
  
Romulans. Why were they risking coming all the way out here? What did they know that the Federation didn't about this region of space? A Betazed space station had discovered the anomaly only two days ago. How had a ship been able to make it from the Neutral Zone before the _Enterprise_? Were there cloaked ships posted throughout the region? Did they need to worry about invasion?  
  
And who was behind that other ship?  
  
Starfleet Command wasn’t going to like hearing this.

* * *

  
  
Will jolted to the side, and he could see Deanna and Beverly repositioning their feet in an attempt not to jostle so much in their chairs. Everyone always seemed to have a knack for congregating on the bridge when something bad happened. A small knot formed in his stomach.  
  
“Report!”  
  
“Shields are holding at eighty percent.”  
  
“It certainly doesn't feel like it, Mr. Worf.”  
  
“The weapons discharge is creating a shock wave that is interfering with our inertial dampeners.” Data was practically bouncing in his seat, though it didn't slow the movement of his hands across his controls. “It is not an effect we have encountered with Romulan weapons technology before.”  
  
They hadn't exactly encountered a Romulan ship like this one before. The normally angular lines of the warbird were curved, and arrayed with more firepower than Will had seen on such a vessel before. Were they out here testing a new warship in Federation space? Did that mean this wasn't a prototype? How had their intelligence heard nothing of this?  
  
“Lock phasers on their weapons array.”  
  
Though the ship had given them a few passing volleys, its main focus was the considerably smaller, still unidentified vessel. It had the blunted nose of a shuttle craft, with a fin affixed to her top, belly, port and starboard sides. The design was eerily reminiscent of the harpoons he had seen in museums back in Alaska. Its aft was a concave pit, where several nested rings spun, generating a blue light he associated with a warp drive. Whatever their technology, it gave them remarkable maneuverability. The Romulan ship had only managed a grazing shot since the _Enterprise_ 's arrival. It had to be the only reason the ship was still intact.  
  
“Phasers locked.”  
  
“Fire.”  
  
Picard's order boomed out across the bridge. Since his return from his ready room, he’d had a sour frown affixed to his face. The change in his mood must have been what had brought Deanna to the bridge. Beverly had probably been with her when she had sensed the change in the captain.  
  
There was a logical reason for them being there. The senior staff congregating on the bridge did not have to herald disaster. Plenty of it had happened without all of them present.  
  
The knot tightened in his stomach.  
  
“Direct hit. Minimal damage to their shields.”  
  
“Prepare a torpedo spread, pattern delta six.”  
  
The small ship looped over the top of the warbird before moving toward the _Enterprise_. How many people were on board? A hundred? No, the fins might give the illusion of a greater size, but she was too small for such a crew compliment. Maybe seventy? What the hell had she done to irritate the Romulans so badly?  
  
“Sir, the unidentified ship has laid in a collision course with the _Enterprise_.”  
  
“Divert power to the forward shields!” Damn it, didn't they realize the _Enterprise_ was trying to help? Or was the smaller vessel Romulan too? Had they stumbled across some bizarre training exercise?  
  
Any hails they had tried upon reaching that region of space had been ignored, because knowing what was going on and who was involved would have made things too easy.  
  
“The photon torpedoes, Mr. Worf?”  
  
“Armed and ready sir.”  
  
The Romulan ship had turned its full attention to the _Enterprise_ as the smaller vessel careened towards them.  
  
“All hands, brace for impact!”  
  
As the ship swallowed the focus of the main viewer, the bridge crew were able to do something that their ship's sensors could not. Read its hull.  
  
 _USS Elementia. RX- 7431._  
  
It was as if the air was pulled from his lungs as the ship hit their shields. A Federation ship? How?  
  
After a quick flash of static, it passed right through the shield and continued on its course.  
  
Will hadn't even felt his seat vibrate.  
  
“Mr. Data, report!”  
  
“I am unsure how sir, but the ship has penetrated our shields.”  
  
“I'm aware of that. Where is it now?”  
  
“It is difficult to get a sensor lock with it so close to our hull, but it appears to be matching our speed and course, holding just above the saucer section.”  
  
“It's decided to hitch a ride with us.” Will couldn't help but feel a sudden rush of admiration for the ship.  
  
“It has maintained its own propulsion, though it does appear to be using our shields to its advantage.”  
  
“And our fire power too, I'd wager. Mr. Worf, fire the torpedoes.” The tense lines in Picard's shoulders didn't ease, even as he tried to stretch his fingers along the arm of his chair.  
  
He didn't like a still (mostly) unidentified ship being so close to the _Enterprise_. And if the ship could pass through their shields, what did it say about their weapons capabilities? Surely if they had an impressive arsenal, they would have been able to take on the warbird?  
  
“Firing.”  
  
The torpedoes arched out across the viewer, and the warbird continued its pursuit. It seemed to have little interest in trying to stop the attack. When the torpedoes burst along its shield, not deterring it in the slightest, the knot in Will's stomach turned to lead. They wouldn't be much use to the ship covering itself with their shields if they couldn't handle the warbird either.  
  
“Sensors indicate minimal damage to their shields.”  
  
They had little time to think of a new plan of attack, when Data spoke up.  
  
“Sir, sensors are picking up a disruption in the spacial anomaly.”  
  
“Cause?”  
  
“Undetermined, Captain.”  
  
“Well, it seems to have caught their attention.” Will clung to his anxiety, not wanting to feel relief prematurely.  
  
Without bothering to give a parting shot, the warbird altered course, turning away from the _Enterprise._  
  
“Sir, the ship is heading for the anomaly.”  
  
“On screen.”  
  
The view of the warbird vanished, replaced by the dark expanse of stars.  
  
“Mr. Data?”  
  
“The anomaly is not producing light within the spectrum that most humans can detect. I will apply a sensor filter.”  
  
The light of the stars dimmed, and a rough blue haze appeared at the center of their monitor. The warbird, more alien now with its normal color distorted, fast approached the event horizon.  
  
“I am receiving highly unusual energy readings from the anomaly, Captain.”  
  
“Are we safe, Mr. Data?”  
  
“I cannot confirm that, though given our current distance-”  
  
An arch of prismatic light burst out from the blue center, striking the warbird. Their shields shuddered and faltered, and in another instant, the ship flew into pieces. The screen flared with the sudden brightness, and Will brought up a hand to shield his eyes. He almost poked himself in the eye as debris from the ship struck their shields, jolting him in his seat. When he lowered his hand, he saw the others slowly blinking in an attempt to clear their vision.  
  
“Report.”  
  
“Shields are holding. No damage to the ship.”  
  
Worf sounded a little too relieved for Will's liking.  
  
“The energy readings from the anomaly are stabilizing.”  
  
“Just the same, I'd feel better if we had a little more distance between us.”  
  
Will nodded at Picard's pointed look. “Helmsman, back us away a few hundred kilometers.”  
  
“Aye sir.”  
  
“Mr. Data, is that other ship still within our shields?”  
  
“Sensors indicate-” He stopped, head cocking to the side as he reexamined his read out. “The ship is now leaving our shields.”  
  
“On viewer.”  
  
The filter was removed and the normal tone of space returned, providing a backdrop to the small ship as it moved away from the _Enterprise_.  
  
“Sir, they are hailing us.”  
  
“On screen, Mr. Worf.”  
  
The bridge that appeared was dark, light coming from what looked like emergency systems. There was a figure at the helm, and one in the captain's chair, but the rest of the stations were empty. No wonder they hadn't fought back. It didn't look like they had the manpower. The helmsman shifted, wiping blood from her lips with the back of her hand, and Will's throat constricted.  
  
The uniform was wrong, not just the red color (she wore blue), but something about the design. Her riotous mass of curls was pulled back into a ponytail, leaving her somewhat exhausted face free of obstruction. There was no way he was mistaken. Deanna Troi was at the helm of that ship.  
  
“I was going to ask what the _Enterprise_ was doing out here, but I suppose we're the ones who are a little lost.”  
  
Caught off guard by the counselor appearing in such a strange space, Will had completely missed the other familiar face.  
  
Her hair was pulled back as well, but small wisps had escaped, sticking to her forehead and the side of her face. There was a sharpness in her cheekbones, a thinness he wasn't used to, but aside from the uniform, it was her. Beverly Crusher was in the captain's chair.  
  
Will tore his eyes away from the view screen, looking toward the women on the bridge with him. They were still there. Unwarranted relief flooded his system.  
  
Picard managed to contain his shock to just a few seconds of silence before making a reply.  
  
“Captain.. I believe we might be a little lost as well.”


	2. Chapter 2

  
  
“They might not have looked it, but they were just as surprised as we were.”  
  
Deanna's words didn't make Will feel any better. Two starships who had no idea what was going on was certainly not better than one.  
  
“Do we have any idea where they came from?”  
  
“The anomaly seems a likely answer, sir.”  
  
“The Romulan ship was destroyed when it got near it. You really think something could have passed through that thing?” Will turned his focus to Data.  
  
“The anomaly was in an unstable state when the ship approached it. That could have been what caused its destruction. At present, I have no other theories as to how the _Elementia_ appeared in our space time.”  
  
Space _time_. This was turning into one of the things Will was starting to resent. Time travel. Alternate realities.  
  
“Hopefully with some of... her staff on board-” It seemed their captain was having a hard time wrapping his head around what they had just been presented with too. “-we'll be able to come up with a more complete picture. Mr. Data, have you finished your search?”  
  
“Yes sir. There is no mention of a _USS Elementia_ in any of the Federation data banks. The ship design is also unknown, and I have found no prototype blueprints which could lead to the construction of such a ship.”  
  
“I'd certainly love to have a look at her.” Geordi was wistful. “Those engines are nothing like anything I've seen before. And she passed through our shields without a second thought. That's... impressive.”  
  
Worf frowned at the reminder. “Sir, I believe a security force should be accompanying Doctor Crusher.”  
  
“I'm aware of your request, Mr. Worf.”  
  
From the way the captain was looking at his security officer, a part of him had to agree with the idea.  
  
“I could accompany her team.”  
  
“I want you here Number One, to liaise with the _Elementia'_ s first officer.”  
  
Because the ship's own captain had refused to step aboard the _Enterprise_? Or because of who it was? He tried to avoid looking at Deanna.  
  
“At this time, I think it's best we treat our guests as if they were a part of... this timeline's Federation. Security should not be necessary.”  
  
 _“Crusher to Picard, I have my medical away team ready and assembled in transporter room one.”_  
  
“Very well. You’d better go, Number One, I want you to be there to greet our guests. Mr. Worf, keep transporter lock on our away team.”  
  
Everyone, half risen from their chairs, paused at his statement.  
  
“Security should not be necessary, but it does not mean we can't be cautious.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Beverly wasn't sure what she should have expected.  
  
A lone ensign in a torn uniform, with their arm in a sling, was waiting for them on the _Elementia_. Her tricorder was up, diagnosing him before she was off the transporter pad.  
  
“Your shoulder is dislocated.”  
  
“There's plenty worse off than me. Sickbay is this way.”  
  
How many, how badly, that they couldn't spare the time to put his shoulder back into place? Grip tightening on her medkit, Beverly hurried after the ensign. He had hardly finished speaking before he was moving out into the hall. Though the main lights were off in the transporter room, the emergency lights showed a clean and well maintained station. The ensign's disheveled exterior was much more in place in the hallway. Panels were torn off walls, cables were laid across the floor, and some of the emergency lights flickered. There were no bodies and there were no noticeable blast marks, but the scene made the hairs on Beverly's neck stand on end. What had they been doing?  
  
She heard a hitched-in breath from one of the young nurses behind her. She would find out who later, make sure they scheduled a meeting with Deanna. Someone who got caught up in the destruction would be no good on an away team in the middle of a fight.  
  
They turned a corner and suddenly the halls were filled. Stretchers and makeshift pallets lined up alongside the walls. Her tricorder whirred and beeped. They were alive. Most were asleep.  
  
One groggy individual opened their eyes at their approach. Their eyes brightened when they landed on Beverly.  
  
“Captain?”  
  
The ensign who was leading them looked back over his shoulder at Beverly's team. “The ship is small. Our sickbay can't fit everyone.”  
  
“Captain.”  
  
The officer on the ground tried to stand, but the ensign hurried over to them. He crouched, face twisting a moment in pain as he shifted his shoulder.  
  
“The captain is still in sickbay.”  
  
“But-”  
  
He placed his hand on their chest, pushing them back down. “Go back to sleep.”  
  
Their fevered eyes returned to Beverly, confused.  
  
“Go back to sleep Mark, it'll make sense after you've rested.”  
  
Was it a sign of respect or of fear that they were trying to stand in her presence?  
  
The ensign didn't move as his shipmate laid back down. “The captain is through there, I- I need to stay with Mark.”  
  
“That's fine. Alyssa, you start out here. I'll call you in if we need you. Everyone else, with me.” She marched for the sickbay doors, weaving through the stretched out feet of prone officers. Several more confused mumbles of 'captain?' followed her.  
  
The doors opened and the sounds of the hallway immediately vanished under the whir and beep of machines. The noise of the equipment was rapidly cut through with sharp, succinct orders in a voice Beverly heard repeated back to her in her logs. Her counterpoint might be a captain, but it seemed she was also still a doctor. A weight she didn't realize she had, lifted in her stomach.  
  
The captain looked to them the moment they stepped across the threshold. Her eyes skipped over the nurses and landed on Beverly.  
  
“Good. You're here. The patient on biobed three needs to be prepped for surgery.”  
  
No formalities, there were people who needed to be saved. Another strange comfort to hear from her own mouth. Beverly just nodded and moved towards the bed.  
  
“Oh come now, a little internal bleeding never did me any harm.”  
  
“Be quiet, Commander.”  
  
The woman on the bed closed her mouth but rolled her eyes at her captain's command.  
  
Another commander? Who was on this ship?  
  


* * *

  
  
The light from Beverly's away team hadn't even vanished from the transporter pad when they received the two signals from the _Elementia_. Will took a breath to steady himself, and from the corner of his eye he saw Worf stand taller. What was it like for the Klingon, to see the woman he was currently dating in such a different position? Will didn't want to think about that. He didn't have time to think about it, either. And it wasn't any of his damn business. There. Settled. He wouldn't think about it.  
  
The two figures fully materialized, and Will wondered how many more shocks he was going to have to take that day. Beside a command red clad Deanna Troi stood Natasha Yar.  
  
His greeting stalled on his lips. He had to swallow to soothe his suddenly dry throat in order to speak.  
  
“Welcome aboard the _Enterprise_.”  
  
The two women stepped off the transporter pad, moving in synch and stopping just at the end of the small stairs.  
  
Yar tilted her head to the side. “You recognize me.”  
  
“Yes. We had a lieutenant Yar aboard this ship several years ago.”  
  
Commander Troi's eyes were on the transporter chief when she spoke. “She died.”  
  
Yar didn't blink at the statement. Troi's dark eyes finally landed on Will. To match his expression with whatever emotions he was feeling?  
  
“Yes.” His tongue felt thick in his mouth when he answered.  
  
Troi didn't look at Worf, but Yar was staring him down. The Klingon didn't budge under her cold scrutiny.  
  
“Lieutenant Worf, our chief of security.” He tried to pick up the introductions, fumbling with the strange situation.  
  
“I'm the _Elementia_ 's security chief.” Yar's words sounded like a threat.  
  
Troi laid a land on her elbow before crossing over to stand in front of Will.  
  
“And you're... Commander Riker.”  
  
He couldn't place how she said his rank. Amused? Sad? This Deanna was harder to read than the one he knew.  
  
“You know me.” He tried to smile.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
She didn't elaborate. Was he dead where she was from? Why not simply say so? She didn't seem to have any problem telling her fellow officer that she was dead in his universe.  
  
“Well, Captain Picard is waiting, if you'll follow me.”  
  
Yar's eyes stayed on Worf as they walked.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Seeing someone close to you hurt can cause you to react differently than you might under normal circumstances.”  
  
Jean-Luc had called back the counselor from exiting with the others. He wasn't sure what he wanted from her presence, but he knew he needed her at his side.  
  
“I am not close to the crew of the _Elementia_.” From the corner of his eye he saw the door to the observation lounge. He would have turned and faced it if he weren’t speaking with Deanna.  
  
Will would be back with their guests soon.  
  
“You recognize some of their faces. Your mind will make a connection regardless of the facts of the matter.”  
  
“Actually, I... I do not think I responded to the situation in a way I would have had I seen you or... Doctor Crusher in any danger.” Doctor Crusher. His old friend, Beverly. He did not need to say her name. The empath would sense the connection he felt to the older woman. That woman was not the one he saw on the bridge of the _Elementia_ , nor the counselor.  
  
“Does that bother you?”  
  
“I am not sure if I want to distrust these doppelgangers because I perceive them as imposters, or because.. of something else.” Why were the Romulans after them? Why did the captain refuse to come aboard the _Enterprise_?  
  
“Something you think is wrong with their situation.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“You are worried not because you think you will protect them, but because you think you will second guess yourself on whether or not to treat them as a threat, due to the familiar association.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Deanna looked away from him, focus drifting across the table to the view of stars. Her shoulders lowered but he could not hear a sigh.  
  
“At the moment all I can tell you is that I feel general anxiety from that ship, which is neither damning nor exonerating evidence of who they are. There's tension. Due to the recent attack they suffered, or something else.” She trailed off, frowning. “I wish I could provide more clarity for you.”  
  
There would be no easy answers for his gnawing, unfounded suspicion of the _Elementia_. “Speaking of the matter is always useful.”  
  
She smiled, eyes turning back to him. “Never underestimate how important it is to say something out loud, even if it is just to hear how it sounds.”  
  
“Never underestimate the clarity you provide for me, Counselor.” He found himself smiling back.  
  
“Hopefully this meeting will help us understand everything a little better.”  
  
“Quite.”  
  
Silence settled in the air between them, comfortable, familiar. So many of their conversations were punctuated by long periods of simple thought, the quiet brought him ease.  
  
He stood when the doors to the room opened. Commander Troi stepped through the door first. Worf came after her, gravitating toward their Deanna. Picard's voice caught in his throat as Tasha Yar stepped into the observation lounge. Her eyes skimmed over him before examining the rest of the room. He pushed through the tangle of emotions he felt at seeing his old security chief. Will's eyes flashed an apology as he entered after her.  
  
“Commander. Welcome aboard the _Enterprise_.”  
  
“Captain.”  
  
They shook hands and the warmth of her skin surprised him. Her being cold should have been more alarming, but it at least would have matched the guarded expression on her face.  
  
“I hope the presence of the lieutenant commander will not be too distracting.” Commander Troi’s statement, it hardly sounded like a question, was off putting.  
  
Did she know what happened to their Tasha?  
  
“It will not.”  
  
“Then I would like to get right into business, if that is alright with you.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
She and Tasha moved to the empty seats at the end of the table.  
  
Picard retook his seat. “I would like to reiterate that your captain is welcome aboard to discuss our coordination efforts.”  
  
“Given the extent of the damage, she felt it was that best that she remain aboard and assist in sickbay.”  
  
The other Beverly was still a doctor. He tried not to smile. Of course, even in another universe, she would be, even as she sat in the captain's chair.  
  
“And to be frank, Captain-”  
  
Picard stiffened in his seat as a sudden tension gripped the room, dread coiling in his belly.  
  
“-I don't want her to be distracted by having to look at the face of the man who caused the death of her family.”  
  
His mind tripped into a well of infinitely cruel possibilities that her words brought to him. Her family? Not just Jack, but Wesley as well? Could there have even been others where they were from?  
  
Commander Troi finished her unnerving reveal with hardly more than a blink, face having betrayed nothing as she spoke of her captain’s losses. “Where I come from, the two of you have always managed to avoid each other. The coordination efforts will continue to be arranged through me.”  
  
He managed a stiff nod. “Very well. Any equipment or personnel requests you have can go through Commander Riker.”  
  
This Deanna's dark eyes didn't have a problem looking at any of them, even as his own crew's eyes skirted around the familiar faces across from them. There was no curiosity, or distaste, that he could find. Her rather stiff features were a little unnerving displayed next to the counselor he knew.  
  
“One other thing, Captain.”  
  
The dread he had felt at her earlier proclamation crept through his body. “Yes?”  
  
“With any security personnel you feel necessary to send over to my ship, don't send the Klingon.”  
  
Worf half rose from his chair, but their Deanna put a hand on his arm to calm him. The woman at the end of the table didn't even blink at the display.  
  
“For his own safety and the safety of my crew, it is best he stays aboard the _Enterprise_.”  
  
“Why is that co-” _unselor, no, that wasn't right_ , “-ommander?”  
  
“We've been at war with the Klingon empire for the past fourteen years.”


	3. Chapter 3

  
  
War. A complicated variable in dealing with the _Elementia_ crew. Picard didn't look back to his people as they flashed him looks of concern. Their professionalism would fall back on to their faces soon enough. He forced half a smile to his own before answering the commander. From his brief interaction with the ship's crew, he knew he needed to be blunt.  
  
“I hope the presence of my chief of security at this meetings will not be distracting.”  
  
Commander Troi didn't hesitant in replying, if his parroting her words interested her, she didn't show it. “It will not.”  
  
Her lieutenant Yar looked about ready to disagree, but kept herself quiet.  
  
“You said war with the Klingons, but it was a Romulan ship that was attacking you. Does your Federation have trouble with them as well?” Will eased back into the conversation, sitting straighter in his chair.  
  
Emotion briefly flickered across her face. It looked like annoyance. Picard kept himself from frowning. Had she expected blind aid from them?  
  
“The Klingons conquered the Romulan empire, though now they try and present themselves as equal partners in their continued expansion.” The edge of her mouth curled as she spoke, almost the beginnings of a sneer.  
  
“You live in a dangerous galaxy.”  
  
“Yes. One we are interested in getting back to.”  
  
She finally looked towards his XO as she spoke. Was there a William Riker in her universe? Did this Deanna know him? Were they friends, as theirs were, or had something else happened in their lives? Being the instrument of the destruction of Beverly's family was painful enough. What other friendships were absent? Had they ever existed?  
  
“Do you have any theories as to how you ended up here?” Their Deanna broke the silence.  
  
Commander Troi looked back at Picard. “The tear off your port bow is what we came through. We were surprised to see a ship so quickly once we were through.”  
  
He frowned. “The anomaly was picked up by a Betazed station two days ago.” A little temporal displacement wasn't unusual, especially when one was tearing through universes. According to Data anyway.  
  
“Our journey through seemed instant.” She paused, lips pursing. “A Betazed station?”  
  
“Was that not the region of space you were in before you came here?”  
  
“No, we were in that region. Our exact coordinates would be appreciated, our computers still need a great deal of repair.”  
  
“Then that shall go to the top of the list of things to assist with. What is it your ship needs?” Finally, to the purpose of this meeting. Not that their conversation prior to this hadn't been informative. Picard simply felt the wish to get business over with, and to get these people off his ship.  
  
“Our chief engineer was compiling a list for me when I left. Of course, any personnel you can offer would be appreciated, though I understand you are unfamiliar with our engines.”  
  
Riker shifted in his seat. “I mentioned the peculiar design on the way here.”  
  
“Don't feel like your Federation is out of touch. It's a prototype, our ship is one of two that was outfitted with them.”  
  
Picard made himself smile. “They are quite remarkable.” He doubted Geordi would get as detailed a look at them as the engineer would like.  
  
Any people in the midst of a long war could hardly be trusting, no matter the faces that were asking them for insight.  
  


* * *

  
  
“The commander is stable.”  
  
The commander? The..? Ah yes, her initial patient. That woman had been three surgeries and five patients ago.  
  
Beverly looked over to her own face. “Yes. Though, her wounds were.. unusual.” Most of the people she had treated had unusual injuries.  
  
Her counterpart simply nodded, as if it was expected.  
  
“What caused this?” It wasn't impact trauma, at least, not all of it, and it certainly wasn't weapons' fire. “Your crew... you weren't boarded.”  
  
“No. There were power failures and several of our key systems overloaded.”  
  
So badly that most of her crew was put out of commission? The wounds her tricorder had been picking up didn't all match typical console burns, or leaked warp core radiation. Beverly held her tongue, taking the information she had been given. She wasn't here to get answers from anyone. She was here to help.  
  
“Are there any more critical patients you need help with? I'd like to check with my team in the hallway.”  
  
“Check in with your people.” The captain turned and left as abruptly as she had arrived.  
  
Beverly resisted the urge to do rounds of the biobeds first, this wasn't her sickbay, and headed out to check with Alyssa. Her nurse was easy to spot, as she was the only one standing in the hall. No more eerie echoes of 'captain' followed her as she moved between the crew. Were they finally asleep, or had they simply been informed of the situation?  
  
“Alyssa.”  
  
When she looked towards Beverly, a tiny frown was etched into the corner of her mouth. “Doctor.”  
  
Had she picked up on the peculiarities of these injuries? Had something else caught her attention?  
  
“How are things out here?”  
  
“Alright. Nothing that rest won't solve.”  
  
“That's good.” Where the hell had the people in sickbay been, then? What system had overloaded so badly that they needed surgeries, while the rest of the crew were not so badly hurt?  
  
Alyssa fidgeted a moment, voice and eyes lowering. “There's... a lot of engineers.”  
  
Beverly looked down the row of bodies that lined the halls. She hadn't noticed the sea of yellow uniforms amidst the bandages when she first laid eyes on them.  
  
“A lot of them mumble about the engine while I treated concussions. They aren't security.”  
  
If a ship this small had that many security personnel, it would have been a different kind of peculiarity.  
  
“I want you to report back to the _Enterprise_.”  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“Give the captain a quick report, and collect anymore supplies you can.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Maybe it was time to start looking for answers.  
  


* * *

  
  
Yar and Troi clasped hands, and Will saw their arms tense, as if they were about to arm wrestle midair. Tiny smiles crooked onto the corners of their lips.  
  
“See you on the front.”  
  
Yar nodded, dropping her hand and then stepping back onto the transporter pad with a host of Enterprise engineers, Geordi among them. She had been far from thrilled when Commander Troi had told her she was heading back to the _Elementia_ without her. Their short, clipped, conversation in the corner of the observation lounge had made their Deanna shift uneasily in her seat. Whatever she had sensed from them had put a small frown on her face, it hadn't vanished even when Will left to take them to the transporter room.  
  
Will nodded at the transport operator, a part of him was foolishly put at ease by Yar's departure. Perhaps that was what Commander Troi had intended by sending her off. It was unsettling to look at her, and she was still alive and well on the _Enterprise_. Was she trying to do his crew a favor by not having one of their dead comrades walk its halls?  
  
“Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”  
  
She turned back to face him. “I have concluded everything that my captain wished for me to discuss.”  
  
“Well then, you have time for a drink.”  
  
Her face went blank. Rather than offend her, Will was pretty sure he had just surprised her. He smiled, though it wasn't quite as bright as it normally was.  
  
“You have alcohol on this ship?”  
  
Yes, but that wasn't his intention. “We have synthahol in Ten Forward.” He resisted the urge to offer his arm as they moved back into the hallway. This was not his Deanna. This universe's Deanna was not his Deanna.  
  
“This _Enterprise_ is quite different than the one back home.”  
  
Will imagined so, though he did not let his mind stray too far into the possibilities. A war, a crew without Beverly, Deanna, Worf, or himself, if he had read her expression on seeing him correctly. Was she still even the Federations flag ship? It was a fascinating if unsettling question. A drink in Ten Forward would hopefully relax the situation, and curiosity.  
  
The crew in the halls gave them a wide berth and plenty of double takes. She was unperturbed by the people, until they came across a group of children. They trotted by, more interested in their game than the adults around them. Will stopped walking, and Troi moved a step past him before halting as well.  
  
They had vanished from sight before he bothered speaking. “I imagine there are no children on warships.”  
  
“None that the Federation does not deem old enough to die.”  
  
Wesley. Could her Beverly have really lost her son due to some kind of war effort? Was that Picard, or that Federation, the ones responsible in the end for such a bright boy's death?  
  
The rest of their walk to Ten Forward was in silence. This Deanna measured her steps with his, though she was following him, she managed to keep up the appearance that they were walking side by side. Perhaps taking her to such a public place was a bad idea, but he could not bring himself to take her somewhere more private. He did not want any whispered remarks to start floating around the ship about unusual time spent with a doppelganger Deanna. Thomas uncomfortably pushed himself to the forefront of his mind, but that man at least had been from this universe.  
  
Guinan glided over as they took their seats at the bar. She smiled, looking completely at ease as always, even in the face of their unusual guest.  
  
“Commander Riker, Commander Troi, what can I get you?”  
  
Even if she was just reading the rank off of her uniform, it was more likely news of her had spread throughout the ship before them. The familiar faces aboard the _Elementia_ 's crew would not have been something they could have kept quiet.  
  
“Your presence Guinan, as always, is appreciated.”  
  
Her smile brightened, but she said nothing else after they placed their orders, drifting off to make the drinks in silence.  
  
Troi spared the crew amongst the tables nothing more than a quick glance.  
  
“You're sure your captain won't mind you relaxing right now?”  
  
“Will yours?”  
  
His ship wasn't heavily damaged, and most of his crew wasn't out of commission. “It's important that our crews have an opportunity to get to know each other. We're the direct links back to our captains.”  
  
She tilted her head, acknowledging his comment, or perhaps Guinan, who had returned with their drinks.  
  
“Do all Federation ships have a bar in your universe?” She ran her fingers around the edge of her glass.  
  
“Not necessarily a bar, but most ships are outfitted with some form of recreation center. As this is a Galaxy Class ship we have room for a bit more. We've got a holodeck too, but you have to schedule your time in it.” Will took a sip of his drink and nearly spat it back out, it was so sweet. This was certainly not what he had ordered. What was Guinan pulling?  
  
“Families and recreation. What is the objective of a ship like this?”  
  
“Deep space exploration.”  
  
She shook her head, still toying with her glass rather than drinking. “Sounds like my father's Starfleet.”  
  
So her Ian had been an officer too. Had he died young as well, or had he had the opportunity to get older? To tell his daughter about the way the Federation used to be, before the Klingon war that they were tangled in? “I hope your Starfleet has a chance to become that again.”  
  
She finally took a drink.  
  
He almost took another drink himself, before remembering what was in the glass. He scanned the bar, but Guinan seemed to have vanished. He would have a couple of words with her later.  
  
Deanna seemed to have lost interest in conversation, so he pushed forward with his own question. “What you said to Yar, before she left, that was...” Unusual seemed a rude thing to say.  
  
“With the Klingons pushing forward every year, there only seems to be front line posting anymore. Our way of simply saying 'I'll see you later'.”  
  
How badly was their war going that goodbye had been replaced with such a thing?  
  


* * *

  
  
“Geordi.”  
  
“Hey, Doc.”  
  
“Find anything?”  
  
The engineer froze. “Uh, well.. I'm just getting acquainted with the systems.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
He hesitated before fully turning to face her. “Something on your mind, Doc?”  
  
“I'm not sure. You'll tell me if you find anything unusual?”  
  
He opened his mouth, a tiny smile on his face, took another look at Beverly, and clearly changed his mind about what to say. “Of course.”  
  
She nodded, already distracted, unfocused on what was in front of her.  
  
“Was there something else?”  
  
“Oh.. no.” Beverly stuffed her hands in her pockets to keep from wringing them, finally getting her feet to move and take her out of engineering. She shouldn't have given to the impulse and come down here personally. She could have contacted Georgi remotely, it would have been less suspicious than a personal visit. Was it suspicious behavior to just want to talk to the engineer from her ship? Was she even being watched?  
  
There weren't any crew in the halls on the way back to sickbay. Most of them were there. The few that were still capable were in engineering, with Geordi. Alyssa had been right, there was an unusually high number of engineers aboard. That along with the two commanders was definitely odd. Odd enough to warrant her unease?  
  
She stopped short at a flash of yellow hair.  
  
It couldn't be.  
  
She instinctively followed.  
  
“She sent you back.”  
  
Beverly stopped just out of sight, so focused on her target she hadn't realized she had been led back to sickbay. She took out her tricorder and pretended to take a reading off the man at her feet.  
  
“You know how she gets. Sometimes I wonder if I'm really the security chief around here.”  
  
It was. Tasha Yar. How long had this Beverly known her? Served with her?  
  
“Don't doubt it for a second. You did your rounds before coming to see me, didn't you?”  
  
“Partly.” It was a stiff admission. “It seemed like a lapse in security not to talk to you about what happened over there.”  
  
Should she make her presence known? If she happened to overhear something, it wasn't as if it was deliberate. What if she turned the corner and it wasn't really Tasha? It had been so long since she'd heard her voice, perhaps she was mistaken.  
  
“You make it sound terrible.”  
  
“It was strange.”  
  
“The Klingon?” Her voice was cold.  
  
What was wrong with Worf?  
  
“Partly. Apparently my counterpart used to serve on that ship and is currently dead.”  
  
Well, there went that desperate theory. No matter the universe, that Tasha was alive. That had to be some form of good, right?  
  
“Serve with Picard? He would have wasted your potential.”  
  
Such a strange thing to hear from her voice.  
  
“He seems calmer here.”  
  
“Less evil to crush with his fist.”  
  
“Perhaps.”  
  
She wished she could see them without revealing herself, their sudden lapse into silence had her skin itching. Were they whispering and she just couldn't hear? They weren't making much effort to keep their conversation private, standing in the middle of a full sickbay. Then again, most of the crew around them were unconscious.  
  
Beverly's voice, much more hesitant than before, picked up again. “Even with a Klingon on board that ship, do you think Deanna will be alright?”  
  
“Sometimes I wonder if the two of you worry about the rest of us half as much as you worry about each other.”  
  
Yar's voice was light, almost as if her words were part of an old joke, but the comment nearly had Beverly dropping her tricorder. Why would the two of them be so keen to look out for each other? Simply their relationship as captain and first officer?  
  
“You know the answer to that.”  
  
“Yes. And you saw who else was there. You know how she gets around him. She'll be fine. Better than here, around the injured, though I would have preferred to stay with her.”  
  
“You know I need you here.”  
  
“You have everything ready? I thought-”  
  
“Doctor, is there something wrong with the crewman over there?”  
  
The tricorder jumped in Beverly's suddenly shaking hands, but she caught it before it could leap to the ground. She stepped out from the corner, trying to school the shock from her face. How long had they known she was there?  
  
“Just recalibrating my tricorder.”  
  
“Of course. This is Lieutenant Tasha Yar, I believe you knew a counterpart of her.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Tasha was frowning, though her captain didn't seem the slightest bit perturbed. What had she stopped Beverly from overhearing? So much of their conversation had been peculiar- what could possibly have warranted silence?  
  
“Hello.” She tried to smile.


	4. Chapter 4

  
She had been hiding. That was the simple way of looking at things, but could there be another answer for Commander Troi's behavior?  
  
Nurse Ogawa was with the captain. Even if he wasn't busy, Deanna wasn't sure she would bring it to him just yet. What did she have to tell him? Their earlier conversation floated back to her, but what else did she have to voice other than unfounded suspicion? She did not want him to act any more on edge without reason.  
  
Deanna paused at the door to her room. Had seeing Yar thrown her more than she realized? The others' emotions in the room had been distracting. Could her counterpart have been simply shielding herself from that? It seemed a little extreme. Until she had searched again, Deanna hadn't even been able to sense her. Was she cutting herself off because she knew Deanna was there? Being the only one capable of shielding her mind wouldn't make things easier for the rest of her crew.  
  
She asked the computer for Worf's location, turning back down the corridor. Even if she wasn't willing to share her odd findings with anyone yet, she could at least spend some time with him. Maybe having him around would put her at ease, let her think more clearly.  
  
Yar had looked annoyed, and that had come through to Deanna, but mostly all she felt was worry. Why worry about her commander staying on the _Enterprise_? Why so publicly disagree with her commanding officer? What had her Deanna been feeling? Why be so tightly stitched up inside of her own head?  
  
She shuddered, crossing her arms over her chest. How could she stand not feeling the others' presence in the room? It was like deliberately shutting her eyes before walking an unknown path. She had to be very well disciplined or very used to being closed off.  
  
Had the war she spoke of forced that on her?  
  
“Deanna.”  
  
She looked up to see Worf's frowning face. She had almost walked into him. She smiled, arms dropping back to her sides. “There you are. I was looking for you.”  
  
“Has something happened?”  
  
“No.” It was an absence of things, really. “How are you coping?”  
  
His frown deepened. “I am fine.” He wasn't lying. He had been offended by the other Deanna's comments in the observation lounge, but that discontent didn't seem to have stayed with him long. His mind was back to the normal stress and focus of his work. “Are you... coping?” He couldn't quite look at her as he asked. Asking after mental health was still something that made him feel extremely uncomfortable.  
  
“I think so. Being able to read people provides an extra distance. They feel different even if they look the same.”  
  
Worf huffed.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“Commander Riker is in Ten Forward with Commander Troi.”  
  
She hid a smile. “The captain did ask him to stay with her.”  
  
“Indeed.”  
  
“She's not me, Worf. I'm sure Will knows that.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Is something else about the situation bothering you?”  
  
“Why did she not return to her ship with Lieutenant Yar?”  
  
Even Yar had been worried about her commander staying behind. Well, she had just been worried. Deanna could not interpret the cause. Had something else left her unsettled?  
  
“I'm sure she had a good reason.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Yar vanished to return to her duties after hardly more than a nod. Beverly did not feel like she had been granted the same kind of leave from the captain before her. She was snared by her failed eavesdropping; attempting to leave would only make the situation seem worse.  
  
“I hope your tricorder is al lright.” The captain seemed perfectly fine carrying on with the lie.  
  
“It's fine now.” Beverly was starting to feel less than fine herself, though.  
  
“Is your engineer all right?”  
  
Who the hell was left awake on this ship to tell her where she had come from? Had she been checking the ship's sensors? Were they even operational? “He's fine.”  
  
“I hope our engines aren't giving him too much trouble.”  
  
“I think he feels excited by the challenge.” Maybe she had just been looking at the new people who had come aboard her ship. Maybe Beverly was beginning to feel paranoid for no reason. What Yar had to say likely had to do with ship functions. Then why not finish her report once Beverly had been revealed?  
  
“Any help he can manage is greatly appreciated. Just like your assistance in sickbay.”  
  
She felt a strong desire to get back to those patients, and to see if Alyssa had returned yet. Hearing something from Jean-Luc would help soothe her. Even if it was a command to stand ready, though she didn't know for what.  
  
“I'm afraid all I can do in return is ask for more help.”  
  
“On what?” Beverly was a doctor, what use was she going to be outside of sickbay to this woman?  
  
“Can you keep my sickbay running while I'm gone?”  
  
Was she asking her to go back to her timeline with her? Was the woman in front of her dying? She was gaunt, and dark circles were under her eyes, but surely that was simple exhaustion and not a sign of illness? Some horror must have shown on her face, because the captain was fighting a smile as she elaborated her request.  
  
“I'm going to the _Enterprise,_ doctor. I want to speak to your captain.”  
  
That made more sense than her panicked thoughts. “You hadn't seem interested in going to the _Enterprise_ before.”  
  
“My patients took precedence.”  
  
Those patients very nearly made up the entirety of her crew. “And now?”  
  
“They are stable. I've done what I can for them. Now I must do what I can for the ship.”  
  
What was she hoping to get from Jean-Luc that she felt her first officer could not? “You-” She straightened her shoulders. “-you have no lost love for Captain Picard.” It seemed prudent not to share her ease and familiarity with him.  
  
The captain before her grew quiet a moment, eyes unblinkingly studying her face. “You married Jack Crusher?”  
  
“Yes.” She tried not to hesitate at the sudden change in topic.  
  
“And you had a child. Lesley. Our daughter.”  
  
Her and Jack's? Or had she meant theirs? “I had a son. Wesley.”  
  
They shared a moment of soft smiles for the peculiarity of similar names. Beverly's wavered and vanished quickly, unease creeping inside her. What did their similar histories have to do with her dislike of Jean-Luc?  
  
“Mine both died under Captain Picard's orders.” Captain Crusher's smile had not quite vanished by the time she spoke.  
  
Why the hell had no one told her? Did they know? The captain pressed forward before Beverly could overcome her shock and ask questions, or provide sympathies.  
  
“Your son. Where is he now?”  
  
Traveling with a transdimensional alien did not seem like a simple enough response. “Traveling.”  
  
“He didn't join Starfleet?”  
  
Mentioning his brief time at the academy seemed unnecessary. “It wasn't for him.”  
  
“If only Lesley had felt the same way.”  
  
How old had she been when she died? The question stuck in her throat, Wes's young face too firmly planted in her mind. Would Starfleet have been enough to hold her together if her son had died?  
  
“You understand my reluctance to talk to him.”  
  
It was hardly a question, but it deserved an answer. “Yes.”  
  
“I hope sickbay will not keep you too busy while I am gone.”  
  
She nodded, hearing _hope no one dies in my absence_. There was no threat to her voice, but something about the words was unsettling. Captain Crusher departed with a nod, and it took Beverly's limbs a moment to remember they could move. She wanted to gather her staff and go huddle in engineering with Geordi and his people. There was safety in numbers, though she had no idea what she meant to protect them from. She couldn't abandon the people in sickbay, and she had no real reason to hide. It wasn't as if she had been threatened. She had been told- asked, to stay put. To help.  
  
There wasn't anything wrong or threatening in that.  
  
When she did her rounds of the biobeds, checking the status of critical patients, she found the commander who had been her first patient was missing.  
  


* * *

  
  
This was the stupidest thing he had decided to do in a long time. He should have checked in with the Captain, seen if there was anything else he required. Instead he had done this. The damn thing he had told himself he wouldn't do. Take Commander Troi to his quarters.  
  
It wasn't like he was really drunk. He hadn't even had the synthahol Guinan prepared for him. The sickly sweet flavor still burned in his mouth, and had helped drive the decision to come back here. His fascination with this woman was too great. Only recently had he seen Deanna take an interest in command, yet here was a version of her who had pursued the position from the start of her Starfleet career. That had to have shaped her, even in a capacity that the war had not.  
  
She wandered around his quarters, completely unabashed, looking, well, relaxed was the only way Will knew how to describe it. She relaxed around him. She had to know his counterpart in her universe. But how? Why the hell wouldn't she say?  
  
She smiled when she saw the trumpet, as if it reminded her of something. He bit his tongue to keep himself from offering to play for her. He had thought (he was now desperately re-imagining the reason for his decision to bring her here) that in a more private setting, their awkward small talk could at least be less awkward.  
  
“Being near Betazed, is this the test run for your prototype engines?” Bad luck that the enemy had found them so quickly. Had they so boldly entered into Federation space?  
  
“Betazed was taken by the Klingons nine years ago.”  
  
He had obviously picked the absolute worst question to ask. No wonder she had asked after Betazed when she learned it was one of their stations that had picked up the anomaly. Just what exactly had they been doing out here, with a brand new ship? With the war going the way it sounded, why risk it? What was so special about their engines? “I'm sorry.”  
  
“It was some time ago.”  
  
She wasn't facing him. Her voice was steady, but he couldn't be sure she wasn't hiding her face to conceal any pained emotion there. He resisted the urge to apologize again. Before he could speak, she turned toward him, face clear of any distress.  
  
“Was there something you wanted to discuss in private?”  
  
“No. Though it seems a better place to make a fool of myself than in public.”  
  
“Ignorance doesn't make you a fool. You didn't know.”  
  
There was a very specific something that he did not know, and it gnawed at him. “Who am I to you?”  
  
 _“Number One.”_ Picard's voice issued from his comm badge just as she opened her mouth to answer.  
  
He tapped his badge. “Yes, Captain?”  
  
 _“Is Commander Troi still with you?”_  
  
“Yes.”  
  
 _“Meet me in transporter room two, Captain Crusher is coming aboard.”_  
  
“On our way, sir.”  
  
She slipped out of his quarters ahead of him, regardless of not knowing the way. If he knew her better, he would have been tempted to say she was enjoying herself. Putting his frustration, and a bit of amusement, aside, he went after her before she could get herself lost.  
  
“I don't enjoy making a fool of myself in public either.” She was waiting in the hall, having only just stepped to the side of the door.  
  
He highly doubted she could make a fool of herself, even if she tried.  
  
“Well then, I'll do my best to make sure that doesn't happen.”


	5. Chapter 5

  
“Something wrong with transporter room one, sir?”  
  
“Nurse Ogawa is having some difficulty transporting back to _Elementia_. There's some crew there now trying to find the problem.”  
  
Will hadn't even known she had been back on board. He lowered his voice. “Something to report?”  
  
Commander Troi stood by the transport operator, too far away to hear a soft spoken conversation. Captain Picard's focus had drifted toward her as well.  
  
“Just Beverly's unease with the situation, and a great many of engineers amongst the crew.”  
  
“Engineers? It is a prototype ship.”  
  
“Yes, but nothing has felt quite right since we found that ship. Her report raises more questions for me.”  
  
“A prototype ship in enemy space is peculiar.” The only real peculiarity Will could think of. Since they had identified the ship, he hadn't felt anything strange beyond having to look at unfamiliar familiar faces.  
  
“Enemy space?”  
  
Of course he didn't know. Will suddenly felt like he was betraying a confidence, though he had hardly been told in secret. “I.. I was told Betazed fell to the Klingons.”  
  
“Were you? Anything else from the commander?”  
  
“The war isn't going well.” She hadn't said it in so many words, but her goodbye to Yar said it plainly enough.  
  
“If Betazed fell, who knows how many other planets the Federation lost.”  
  
Will hadn't thought much on that, too caught up in trying to figure out his counterpart's relationship to Commander Troi.  
  
“Receiving a signal from _Elementia_ , sir.”  
  
At the transporter operator's words, Picard stepped away from his hushed conversation, standing straight and at attention. Will saw Troi do the same. When Captain Crusher materialized, she watched Picard a moment before stepping over to her first officer. Will saw his captain's arm twitch as he was ignored.  
  
“No tears, Deanna?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Her captain placed her fingers on her chin, lifting her face so that she had no choice but to look her in the eye. She nodded, her close scrutiny seeming to have found nothing wrong. Captain Crusher dropped her hand back to her side and finally went to stand in front of the other captain.  
  
Picard had hung back while they went through their strange ritual, stepping forward only as he was approached. “Welcome to the _Enterprise_ , Captain.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“This way, if you please. We can talk in my ready room.”  
  
He waited for her nod before leading the way out into the corridor. Will fell into place behind Commander Troi, who followed her captain at a distance, giving her room to speak to Picard in almost privacy, if she wished.  
  
He leaned over her shoulder, keeping his voice quiet as he spoke. “Another unusual greeting.”  
  
She looked back at him briefly before turning her focus forward again, slowing her steps. “Not another war motif, Commander. She was asking after my health.”  
  
“Your health?”  
  
Troi stopped walking and swept aside her hair, exposing the back of her neck to his eyes. A tiny scar was visible before disappearing into her hairline. She let her hair drop back over it once she was sure he had seen it.  
  
“I was captured and held by the Klingons for several months.” Her hands came up, fingers brushing against her cheek. “Most of the left half of my face was destroyed. I initially refused reconstruction, but in the end I wanted Andrea to be able to recognize me. It wasn't a perfect reconstruction. Occasionally there are problems with my tear ducts: I cry blood.”  
  
Will's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. The days he had spent as a guest aboard a Klingon ship had been brutal enough, but to spend months in their hands as an enemy?  
  
“I suppose our Klingons are a little different- they don't take prisoners here. Dishonorable. You die in battle, or bring shame.”  
  
“They used to be that way, but their Romulan allies taught them the importance of information gathering in a drawn out conflict.”  
  
What the hell had they been trying to get from her that they kept her so long? Had they gotten it, and kept her, or had she held fast, so they just kept torturing her?  
  
“Andrea.. you mentioned that name, like it was someone I would know.”  
  
She turned to face him, and for the first time since she had come aboard, Will saw something he was sure was unintentional flicker across her face. Sadness.  
  
“My mistake, Commander.”  
  
“Will you tell me who she is?”  
  
“My daughter.”  
  
Will managed to keep his face from betraying his shock, though his heart picked up its tempo in his chest. “I see. And the me in your time knows you well enough to know her.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“You know, I met our Deanna when I was a young officer, stationed on Betazed.”  
  
The woman in front of him smiled faintly. “That is when I met my Will as well, and yes. He is the father to my daughter. We got married on Betazed before his first front line posting.”  
  
A quick engagement, if they had waited at all. “You don't wear a ring.”  
  
“He doesn't either.” Her answer would almost sound bored, if her words hadn't been so clipped.  
  
“Is he dead?”  
  
“No. He captains the _Argon_ , one of our Brigade class warships.”  
  
He tried for some levity, hoping to lift the dark mood that mentioning his counterpart seemed to bring. “No wonder you were surprised to see me as a commander.”  
  
“I wasn't surprised.”  
  
The steel in her voice told him to drop his teasing. “Where's Andrea?”  
  
“On Earth, with my mother.”  
  
He choked off his next question before he could ask it. Of course she wasn't on Betazed. That planet had fallen. She read him too well, answering the question he had been forgetful enough to nearly ask.  
  
“My mother and our - my daughter, were some of the few survivors to make it off Betazed.”  
  
“I'm sorry.”  
  
“There's no need for you to be.”  
  
Simply another thing he did not know.  
  
Could he ask to see her picture? How wrong would it be to gaze on the face of a daughter he never had? Will did his best to squelch the desire. She was not his, she never would be. He had decided on a different path a long time ago. It would be wrong to look upon his counterpart's choices. It would be cruel. He did not need the image of a little girl haunting his dreams, and having a face to go with it would make matters worse. He would die never knowing what she looked like because he had made that choice years ago. He could not take it back now. He was not suddenly a father because that other Will Riker was.  
  
“I believe we have fallen behind, Commander.”  
  
They had. He moved at a quickened pace to try and catch up with the unbroken stride of their captains.  
  


* * *

  
  
Worf had to return to his work, Data was filling in for Geordi in engineering, and the others were either off the ship or busy. Rather than return to her quarters and try to think of something to do, Deanna went to her office, hopeful to find some paperwork to keep her occupied.  
  
She sat, half slumped in her chair and stared at her blank console, work ethic suddenly dimmed. Why had she ever given up her old swivel chair? Because Will had walked in on her spinning in circles one day, not too long after both of their appointments to the _Enterprise_. Right. She had requisitioned a new chair the moment after she shoved his grinning face out of the door.  
  
She had still been finding her place then. She didn't have time for aimless spinning anymore, though at the moment it certainly felt like it.  
  
If Captain Picard had wanted her around when he spoke with Captain Crusher, he would have asked for her.  
  
She closed her eyes, focusing her thoughts. _Elementia_ was still a knot of anxiety, just to the side of the _Enterprise_. Her own ship's crew did not seem to be having a day different from any other. She tried to find Beverly or Geordi in the jumble of emotions. Most were dim thoughts of pain. There were so many injured on that ship.. luckily she could feel none slipping away.  
  
Not being prepared when someone died around her was one of the most disconcerting slams to her psyche she had ever experienced. Being on _Enterprise_ put her near that kind of suffering more than she would have liked. Thoughts turned dark, she reached out again, suddenly needing to feel her friends' presences.  
  
Deanna sighed, deciding to risk interrupting something important.  
  
She tapped her comm badge. “Troi to Crusher.”  
  
All she got back was static.  
  
“Troi to La Forge.”  
  
Her body tensed.  
  
“Beverly? Geordi?”  
  
Deanna jumped up from her chair and was halfway to her door before she remembered she needed to call security.  
  


* * *

  
  
“I was informed you would not be interested in speaking with me.” They had lost their first officers somewhere in the corridor, and Jean-Luc closed the door to his ready room behind them without a second thought. He had hoped to speak with her privately anyway.  
  
“Deanna is too protective of me. I've worked with the Picard of my timeline plenty of times.”  
  
Not happily, going by the stiffness in her voice. “Very well. What is it you wanted to discuss?” They stood in front of his desk, a cold distance between them as they faced each other. It was hard to think of this woman as even remotely similar to the Beverly Crusher he knew.  
  
“My ship.”  
  
He had to draw every word out of her it seemed. “The repairs are going well?”  
  
“The supplies you sent have been very useful.”  
  
She was dancing around something. He stayed standing and didn't offer her a seat. “Is there anything else I can do for your ship?”  
  
She seemed to ignore his question, finally speaking on what he was sure was really on her mind. “I needed to see you for myself.”  
  
Despite her coolness since arrival, now that they were alone, she seemed incapable of keeping her eyes from him. Her focus felt like scrutiny, as if she was stripping him bare and finding him wanting.  
  
“I see.”  
  
“You are calmer. Tasha was right.”  
  
Calm? Was the Picard she knew some kind of manic man? “Are you here to make a judge of my character?”  
  
“I don't have time for that." There was something tinging almost towards regret in her words. "I had to make do with what I knew of the man who has your name.”  
  
He felt himself grow cold, and anger and panic warred inside of him. “Had to? What have you done?”  
  
“Done what I felt was necessary to keep my ship safe.”  
  
The room shuddered, and they both stumbled, breaking eye contact. Alarms started blaring.  
  
 _“Captain Picard to the bridge.”_  
  
Crusher's face was washed briefly with annoyance as she straightened herself. “Damn impatient woman.”  
  
He wanted a phaser at his side so badly his hand itched toward his empty waist. Calling security at this moment would be pointless. “With me, Captain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RE: Deanna and the swivel chair. Well, she had to be doing something in all those early episodes where she just didn't appear.


	6. Chapter 6

  
  
“ _Elementia_ seems to be experiencing some kind of power surge-”  
  
“Sir, we've lost transporter lock on the away teams-”  
  
“They aren't responding to hails-”  
  
Picard turned to the woman at his side as his bridge crew continued to throw reports at him. “Tell me Captain, is my ship safe?”  
  
“Perfectly. She won't fire at you.”  
  
She? The ship or whoever was currently in control of her? “Will you tell me what is going on?”  
  
“She's running through a systems check.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“A prototype weapon.”  
  
The lift opened, depositing their first officers on to the bridge. He tore his focus from Captain Crusher to Will.  
  
“Commander Riker, get _Enterprise_ clear of _Elementia_ , weapons ready.”  
  
“Aye sir.” Though his eyes were wide with surprise, his XO didn't break stride as he moved out onto the bridge to carry out his orders.  
  
Commander Troi stayed by the security station, clutching the rail as the ship shook again. How was a power surge on _Elementia_ affecting them?  
  
“I do have your chief engineer and CMO aboard, along with several other members of your crew.”  
  
 _Done what was necessary_. What kind of man did she think he was? And who was she to take hostages from people who, in truth, were strangers?  
  
“Is that a threat, Captain?” He turned back toward her.  
  
“You attack my ship, you attack your crew.”  
  
And what about her people? Did she not care for them? Had she not spent this past day tending to them? “You struck against us first.” Threatened, but it felt like a blow, nonetheless.  
  
“I took assurances so that you wouldn't interfere. As I said, _Elementia_ is not going to attack you. She's just going through a systems check.”  
  
“A systems check that you seemed to think requires hostages for you to be able to carry out!”  
  
It was about the time he managed to say _hostages_ that Worf, Deanna, and a large host of security personnel made it to the bridge.  
  
“Captain-”  
  
“Things are in hand Mr. Worf.” The captain and her first officer had tensed at the sight of him. Because of the threat he implied or because he was Klingon? He did not need to situation to get any worse. “Would this systems check happen to have been the thing that rendered your ship nearly incapacitated and most of your crew injured?”  
  
“The last time, yes. In preventing the total destruction of the ship we tore a whole in the universe that landed us here, as well as draw the attention of the Romulans.” She didn't even sound concerned as she admitted to it.  
  
“You tried an untested weapon in enemy space?” Picard held her gaze. Perhaps he could find something in her eyes other than the madness she was speaking. “You weren't sure if it would even work. If it destroyed your ship you wanted to do what damage you could to them.”  
  
“We were never going to risk letting this prototype fall into their hands. Taking the ship into enemy held territory was a calculated risk.”  
  
“A foolish risk, you mean. You don't have permission to be out, do you? Did you steal your ship?”  
  
“The admiralty was heavily split on whether or not we should be set out. Our Picard rather heavily opposed it.”  
  
“What is it this weapon is supposed to be capable of?” Shutting it down had torn a whole in the universe. What was it supposed to do when it wasn't malfunctioning?  
  
“It could turn the tide of the war.”  
  
“A war you've been losing for all these years as I understand it. One weapon is supposed to change that?”  
  
“One person can change anything. One ship can do so much more.”  
  
He agreed with the thought, though his mind riled against her intended means to enforce it. One knife. One gun. One bomb. One ship capable of punching holes in the universe. Weapons could change things, yes, but so rarely for the better.  
  
“Sir, we're losing power in the shields, they won't hold long.”  
  
Worf joined the lieutenant at the security station, checking his readings. “We are also losing weapons' power.”  
  
“I take it your ship is responsible for this as well?”  
  
“It takes a lot of power. It won't shut down anything vital.” Because she was on board? Or did they really bother not to kill those they leeched off of? “It was easy enough to gain access to your systems when we passed through your shield. We were careful about the ones we picked.”  
  
What other tricks had her war torn Federation learned? Even if power wasn't being drained, would they have been able to successfully attack the smaller ship?  
  
“Sir, whatever the _Elementia_ is doing, she appears to have stabilized. She's turning away from the _Enterprise_.”  
  
Would she leave behind her captain and first officer?  
  
“Hail them.” Captain Crusher didn't sound worried, she sounded excited.  
  
“They haven't been responding.” The lieutenant at comms looked toward Picard, ready to try again, regardless.  
  
“They'll answer for me.”  
  
Picard gave himself a moment to glower at her. “Patch her through.” He had been assisting her all day, it seemed he would be doing this as well.  
  
When _Elementia's_ bridge appeared, three engineers and one commander were present. None of them seemed to be paying attention to who was calling, despite having answered.  
  
“You're supposed to be resting, Kathryn.”  
  
“What?” The commander looked up finally. “You thought your little doctor-ganger was going to keep me in bed? _They just gave us everything we need._ I had to make sure it was working.”  
  
“And.” There was something desperate and eager in Captain Crusher's eyes.  
  
“Are their sensors down? Can't you-? Of course it works!” She spoke as if she hadn't just been doubting herself.  
  
“Nothing overloaded?”  
  
“No. The data we got from last time let us circumvent that.”  
  
“This is all very exciting-” Picard cut into their chatter. “-but what about my crew?”  
  
“That's him?” She looked mildly diverted for a moment, staring at him, before returning to the panel she she had been using. “He looks different without the beard. Your crew is fine. In with the engines. I hope they haven't tried to mess with anything... we just got things working again...” She cut the transmission.  
  
Who the hell had that been?  
  
As if reading his mind, Captain Crusher spoke. “Commander Kathryn Janeway. I've got her on loan from Admiral Nechayev. If she exists in your universe, I imagine she's a wasted resource.”  
  
If she existed Picard hoped she did much more with her life, and possible career in Starfleet, than help build weapons.  
  
“I want my people back, Captain, and I want you off my ship.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Beverly and Geordi were kept aboard _Elementia_ while the rest of the crewmen were returned to them. The engineers and nurses were simply confused when they arrived. Aside from some flicking lights, they hadn't noticed anything strange happening on the other ship.  
  
Will would feel better once they had everyone back, and Commander Troi and Captain Crusher were off the ship. The two women were huddled close together in the transporter room they were being held in, easily ignoring the large number of guards posted at the door.  
  
He had heard Deanna speaking to Picard about her inability to reach the others via comm. She had been restless and on edge prior to that. Everyone seemed to have been treating their supposed guests with suspicion, except for him. A distracted first officer would have been to their advantage, had they really been planning out all their interactions with the _Enterprise_ crew. Did they really believe their weapon to be that important?  
  
And if he had known what they were doing, would Picard have stopped them? Simply not helped them? That did not seem like the man he knew.  
  
It seemed like the behavior _Elementia_ crew expected from their Picard. Resistance, destruction in the face of what they were doing.  
  
Helping or hindering them seemed wrong, no matter which way he looked at it.  
  
“Commander.”  
  
He started at the sound of Worf's voice, and quickly turned away from the door he had been facing. He had barely been able to see into the transporter room from across the corridor anyway.  
  
“Mr. Worf.”  
  
“Do you think the security team is not enough?”  
  
“Uh, no, it's fine.” He wasn't sure it was even necessary. They had gotten what they wanted without violence, he saw no reason for them to turn to it now. Their threats had done well enough. Their continued threat.  
  
It would be better once Beverly and Geordi were back on board.  
  
“I'll be on the bridge, Mr. Worf. I trust you're keeping an eye on things here.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
If he had meant to say anything, Will left before he could bring it up. He didn't draw any odd looks in the corridors, no longer keeping strange company. He wandered towards the bridge when he remembered that was where he told Worf he was heading.  
  
“Commander.”  
  
He stopped walking, unable to keep his shoulders from drooping slightly. He needed to be alone in his quarters for a while, not be out around people.  
  
“Are you alright Commander?”  
  
“Yes, Mr. Data, what is it?” He turned to face the android, making himself stand straight again.  
  
“I was going over the readings I had from _Elementia_ during its systems check of the unidentified weapon.”  
  
Unidentified. Had they even bothered to give it a name, where it came from? “You found something?”  
  
“The data I gathered was, to use a human expression, most disturbing.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“The ship gave off trace amounts of hyperonic radiation while it experienced its power surges.”  
  
“Radiation?” Will crossed his arms. “Are our people inside alright?”  
  
“I do not believe it was a high enough dosage, or a long enough exposure, to cause any lasting damage.”  
  
“Anything else?” What about some non-lethal radiation was 'most disturbing'?  
  
“The amount of power the ship generated, even before it absorbed energy from our systems, was equivalent to the output of three warp cores, maintained to the standard of the one currently installed in _Enterprise_.”  
  
“What does that mean?”  
  
“In generating that power and not completely obliterating themselves in the process, it seems most likely that the ship is capable of focusing that energy. Considering their interest in weaponizing it, it is likely it would function as a high intensity phaser beam.”  
  
“How high intensity?”  
  
Data opened his mouth, closed it, stared a moment at Will, then continued. “Very high intensity.”  
  
“I appreciate the layman's terms, Data, but what do you mean by 'very high intensity'?”  
  
“Even if it did not draw on power from a vessel such as the _Enterprise_ , I imagine the ship would be quite capable of destroying a planet of Earth size, or irreparably damaging one the size of Jupiter- were Jupiter a planet of comparable size and not a gas giant.”  
  
“You're telling me that little ship can destroy planets?”  
  
“Yes sir. Quite easily. I have detailed it in my report on this incident.”  
  
Will did not look forward to reading it.  
  
 _“Number One.”_  
  
He tapped his comm badge. “Riker here.”  
  
 _“Worf has just informed me that Doctor Crusher and Lieutenant La Forge are back on board.”_  
  
That meant Commander Troi and Captain Crusher were no longer on the ship.  
  
 _“Once_ Elementia _has gone through the anomaly we're to make way for Betazed.”_  
  
“Aye sir. Riker out.”


	7. Chapter 7

  
  
“Geordi?”  
  
“Hey, Data.”  
  
“You are standing in the dark.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“From what I have observed, most people want to be left alone when they exhibit that behavior. Do you want to be left alone?”  
  
“I don't.. no. Not anymore.” He had let him into his quarters, after all.  
  
“Is there something I can assist with?”  
  
Data made no move to turn on the lights, so Geordi ordered them up by fifteen percent. “Did you.. did you talk to them much?”  
  
“I infer that you are speaking of _Elementia_ 's crew?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“No. I did not interact with them.”  
  
“They.. they seemed all right.” Exhausted. Disheveled. Determined. Not desperate and dangerous. “I didn't even know anything was wrong until I noticed there was nothing wrong.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Their engines. Once I had a decent enough grasp of the design, I realized they were working perfectly. It's a little stupid that I hadn't realized that before, what with all the maneuvering they had been doing to get away from the warbird.”  
  
“They had you working on a system that required no repairs?”  
  
“Yeah. They had taken off with all the supplies and gone to repair their other systems.. their.. weapon. Whatever it was.”  
  
“They were distracting you from their real intentions.”  
  
“They were holding me hostage and I didn't even realize. Once we got back on board _Enterprise_ , Doctor Crusher and I.. everyone seemed so worried.” They had quickly realized something was wrong when their crew was sent back without them. They heard the full story was they were finally released.  
  
“I have heard from other crewmen that 'tensions were high' upon the bridge during _Elementia_ 's weapon test. I believe a great deal of that tension could have been derived from worry over what the _Elementia_ crew intended to do with you, Doctor Crusher and the others.”  
  
“I think wondering if another hole was about to be punched in the universe was a part of it, but thank you Data.”  
  
“You are welcome, Geordi.”  
  
“Did you want something? There had to be reason for your visit.”  
  
“I came to your quarters to ascertain if you were 'all right'. Are you all right?”  
  
“After speaking with you, I'm definitely feeling better.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Sickly sweet. Guinan's word rang in his head. His feet had taken him to Ten Forward before he remembered he had wanted to be there. Sickly sweet wasn't what he had been expecting. Who expected a warning via synthahol? How had she taken one look at Commander Troi and known she was toying with him? Frustrated with her not being clearer earlier, Will had left Ten Forward in search of someone else to share his discontent with.  
  
“Come in.” Beverly had half risen from her chair, but upon seeing Will at the door, she sank back down. She waved him over after his first awkward step into her quarters.  
  
“Sorry, am I bothering you?” No matter his desire to exorcise his demons, he did not want to intrude.  
  
“Not at all.” She looked at him with far too much concern.  
  
The door closed behind him, but he did not step farther into the room.  
  
“Is something wrong?” She was half risen from her chair again, so he quickly crossed over to her.  
  
“No, don't get up.”  
  
Beverly frowned, standing regardless. “Something is wrong, and I think I'm going to get a drink and find out what it is. Want something?”  
  
“No thank you.”  
  
She stopped at her replicator, ordering a cup of tea before giving him her full attention. “Well?”  
  
“ _Elementia_.”  
  
She nodded. “Forgive me, Will, but why not talk to Deanna about all of this?”  
  
“Because she's the ship's counselor?” He sat, trying not to look her in the eye.  
  
“You know that's not what I meant.”  
  
“It seems too personal. It has to do with us, but not us, and with her and Worf...”  
  
“I understand.”  
  
“See? You're as good as any counselor.”  
  
“I can't guarantee I'll do all the listening.” Beverly settled into the chair across from him, pulling her legs under herself.  
  
“That's all right with me.”  
  
“You can still start.”  
  
Will laughed, but the sound died quickly. He rubbed his hand along his uniform pants, expression of mirth fading. “We...” The corner of his lip twitched. “They, had a daughter.”  
  
Beverly sat up a little straighter in her chair. He waited for the surprise and pain to fade from her face. Commander Troi's bluntness had left all of them with the knowledge that the other Beverly had lost her child. It might not have been this Beverly's son that was lost, but it was a fear she lived with, especially since Wes's departure to study with the Traveler.  
  
She broke the silence as he stared down at his shoes.  
  
“It never occurred to you that you could have had a family by now?”  
  
“No, it's not that. I've... I've thought about it before.” And that was more than he'd ever confessed to anyone. His career had been front and center for so much of his life, but that didn't mean he wasn't aware of other possibilities.  
  
He started when Beverley's hand squeezed his own. Will attempted to smile back, clutching her fingers and not letting her pull away.  
  
“She's on Earth, with her grandmother. Apparently neither of us - them.. they.. they aren't really a part of her life. I couldn't imagine what could be so different in that man's life that he wouldn't be there for his child.”  
  
“Like your father wasn't there for you.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Perhaps that Riker has a completely different relationship with his father. A different childhood. Though I suspect... it's war Will. I imagine that Riker and Deanna want what's best for their little girl, for her to grow up in a galaxy where she's safe. Fighting might be their way of protecting her, being there for her.”  
  
The thought of that kind of desperation made him ill. Were things so bad they were willing to risk missing out on her life, just so that she could have one? “Is that what you think their Beverly is doing? Fighting to make sure that what happened to her child won't happen to anyone else's?”  
  
“Yes. I can't imagine anything else being what drove her to...”  
  
“To such desperate measures.” They had all had time to read Data's report.  
  
She nodded.  
  
“I hope their desperation is worth it.”  
  


* * *

  
  
“Counselor. Did you need something?”  
  
“That's what I came to ask you.”  
  
Jean-Luc hesitated, and Deanna smiled faintly in response. He stepped back, arm out to invite her into his ready room. She took a seat on the couch and left him standing, and he began to pace.  
  
“How's the crew?” The easiest lead-in to a conversation with her that he was unsure about.  
  
“Well. Not many of them really interacted with _Elementia_ 's crew.”  
  
He nodded. “Yes. Good.” It was foolish to think of their presence as a taint, but he felt it, nonetheless. A mark. A weight. A failure, if not a blight.  
  
“You didn't do a bad thing.”  
  
He halted his pacing.  
  
“You helped people who were in duress. If _Enterprise_ had not shown up, they would have died.”  
  
He could hardly look at her, even as he made himself turn to face her. Could she really be the same woman as Commander Troi? No. Their histories diverged too greatly. But did that mean there was still potential for that woman inside her? In all of them? That desperation? As more time went by, he was finding it more difficult to even think they looked the same. The faces of the officers on _Elementia_ seemed suddenly twisted in his mind, alien next to the familiar ones he knew on _Enterprise_. Had he ever thought they could look the same? “What's one ship to an entire civilization?”  
  
“You don't know if they will ever use that weapon.”  
  
“We helped repair it, whatever its fate.” He went to stand by his desk, tired of pacing, but body still too restless to sit.  
  
“No. We didn't. In fact, that crew went to great pains to make sure none of our crew ever had a hand in it.”  
  
“Is that.. comforting?” All that did was make them seem more duplicitous. They had been hiding and planning it all from the start. Had they really needed their help against the Romulans? Could they have had enough time to recharge their weapon, destroy the ship, and vanish from their space without a trace? Left only a mystery, rather than a gnawing ache of doubt inside of him?  
  
“It means they know it's wrong. That alone is hope that someone may prevent its use.”  
  
“It doesn't seem like enough.” He should have disabled that ship. There had to be a way around their shields. Could he have done it? With Beverly and Geordi and the others on board? Would they have understood? Agreed? Could he have shot down a Federation ship, no matter its home dimension?  
  
“Is it the existence of the weapon, or the people who planned to use it, that bothers you the most?”  
  
He finally went to the couch, sinking down on its cushions. “That's what I keep thinking about. Yet, I can't help but remind myself that I never really felt I could trust them to begin with, that they never seemed like the people I knew.”  
  
“You don't take comfort in that? Your instincts were right.”  
  
“Does it matter either way? I still may have made my crew complicit in genocide.” The death of planets, at any rate, and what would they use that weapon against except for their enemies? The Klingons and the Romulans? Would they wipe out whole star systems just to get back at them? “Even if it was just our tools, our supplies, not our hands. Our hands gave those supplies.” Matches to a child. More like a chemical bomb to a renegade militant.  
  
“Do you think that every eventual outcome, no matter how tangentially related to your actions, is your burden? That's a rather self-centered view of the universe, Captain. They are, in the end, responsible for themselves.”  
  
He found himself smiling at her jab, despite his still sour mood. “You're right, but it is my actions that I am responsible for, and what I have control over. I can't help but want them to make a difference.”  
  
“What can any of us hope for, but to make a difference?”  
  
“Indeed.” He clasped his hands, and stared down at his intertwined fingers. “Yet, with that crew...”  
  
“You couldn't make the difference you wanted.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“You can't save everyone.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
The silence that followed was comforting. Familiar.

**Author's Note:**

> The initial idea for this story came from an old TNG promo photo, with Beverly in the captain's chair, and Troi and Yar standing on either side. Someone on tumblr commented how it would have been awesome to see a show where she was captian, Troi was her first officer, and Yar was security chief. My brain kinda ran with the slightly-fucked up version of that.


End file.
